


Pathetic.

by hellshark



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: Begging, Butt Slapping, Crying, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Face Slapping, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mirror Sex, Name-Calling, No plot just porn, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, takes place during that one scene in the mirror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 03:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19985440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellshark/pseuds/hellshark
Summary: “You’re so pathetic.” The words reverberated through Mytho’s ears as he stared in the mirror, gazing at himself with indifference.





	Pathetic.

**Author's Note:**

> i have seen only a few eps of this but .... listen i’m horny

“You’re so pathetic.” The words reverberated through Mytho’s ears as he stared into the mirror, gazing at himself with indifference towards what he saw. What he didn’t feel indifferent towards however, was the other who was present: Fakir. What little emotion he did experience would happen to be mainly connected to him; primarily fear and arousal. Currently his body was infected with the latter as was seen by the erection clear as daylight that his eyes bared witness to as he stared at his own reflection. The bulge appearing on his white underwear was a rather unpleasant sight to him and made him feel the slightest sensation of shame, something which was foreign and unfamiliar to him which he also seldom felt when in the presence of Fakir. It was difficult for them to put their relationship into words, they weren’t quite boyfriends nor were they just as simple as fuck buddies, they had no strain to put a name to the relationship they had with each other but they could neither explain it. 

“Look at yourself. Do you see your face?” He snickered as he lowered his hand to grab onto Mytho’s chin and force his eyes to gaze directly at himself within the glass. “This is the face of someone I hate. I hate this pathetic face.” He smirked as he spoke, his words going directly to Mytho’s erection only aiding in increasing the wet spot making itself known at the front of his pristine white underwear which complimented his pale skin tone and snow white hair. 

“I know.” Was all he could muster up as a reply, Mytho wasn’t the best with expressing himself verbally but he didn’t need to as his body did the speaking for him with the state he was in; completely hard with a pink flush spread across his face to his ears. He didn’t quite understand why his body behaved that way, but he didn’t dare question it and just accepted the behavior. Fakir elegantly repositioned himself to where his head was centimeters away from Mytho’s ear as he spoke directly into it, “You may be weak and pathetic but you can be quite adorable when you behave like this.” Mytho could feel Fakir’s smirking face being burned into his mind, he had never seen him look so smug before. After he finished speaking, his breath against Mytho’s ear causing him to shiver, he took his free hand to run a single finger with feather light touches across his member, causing him to shake like a leaf at the sensation. He was quite sensitive to touch, no matter how little it was, which made him ever so fun a toy for Fakir to play with. His elegant movements and Mytho’s scattered and erratic reactions were all apart of his planned choreography as he viewed everything as a form of dance as a melody played in his mind as he continued to play with Mytho.

“I really think you’re disgusting, you know. You enjoy this too much. You’re so desperate and clingy, if I didn’t pity you so much it’d be absolutely pathetic You’re so desperate for anything you can get. You’re truly so lucky to have me in your life.” His words aligned with the music that he orchestrated within his own mind. Mytho simply replied with “I am.” as Fakir moved his hand to be inside of the other’s underwear, his warm hands providing a pleasant sensation causing Mytho to let out a small mewl. He continued only with a single finger, purposely avoiding the head to avoid letting Mytho get what he wanted. To Fakir, everything was planned with excruciating precision and everything was falling into place as would a well coordinated dance piece. 

“Look at yourself. You’re like putty in my hands and I’ve barely even touched you.” The warm breath on his ear caused him to shudder as Fakir harshly bit into his earlobe, the soft flesh immediately having marks appear with any form of touch. Mytho rarely made noise when being touched, despite the overwhelming pleasure he felt but when he did it was music to Fakir’s ears and he’d do anything to cause that sound. Mytho’s ears happened to be a weak spot for him, leading Fakir to relentlessly torture them as he went to lick over the red bite marks left behind. He softly planted kisses along the side of his face and down the side of his neck, the only soft action he had taken so far. 

“I know what you so desire and I could easily give you the release you crave,” He spoke as he removed his hand from Mytho’s face to place a hand within his shirt to toy with his chest; starting with groping at the shape of it to focusing in and toying with his nipple. “Please.” Mytho let out, breathy and desperate. “Hmm that’s better, but I want more. Beg me harder. I won’t give you anything unless you really let me know how badly you want me, slut.” He started pinching the other’s nipple roughly eliciting more squirming and a few quiet moans. 

“Please...” He spoke out inbetween breathes. “Please Fakir-“ He was interrupted by a sudden slap to the face, leaving a large red handmark upon his delicate features. Pain was a feeling that Mytho could easily comprehend and happened to also enjoy. “How many times have I told you? Address me as Master in these situations, you stupid whore.” The words leaving his mouth like venom as the expression upon his face turned sour and tears welled up in Mytho’s eyes. “Try again.” The harsh words only added to Mytho’s arousal. 

“Please ... Master ...” He spoke with a weak and shaky voice, a few tears dropping from his fragile eyes. “That’s better.” The amused expression returned to Fakir’s face. “Continue.” He commanded, Mytho’s cries aligned perfectly with the song in his head. “Please just touch me...Please allow me release.” He pleaded with the tears being shed from his eyes making his performance all the more pitiful. “Fine, but only because you asked me so nicely. Next time, I won’t be as easy.” Mytho faintly perked up at the promise of a “next time”. 

Fakir’s movements transformed from a light stroke to a rough grab at Mytho’s dick and began to quickly stroke up and down, giving special attention to the head he so adamantly avoided previously. Mytho had unraveled completely in his hands and was a sobbing and mewling mess controlled by the tips of his fingers, similarly to a conductor with their orchestra, by simple different movements of his hands he controlled the sounds of Mytho. 

“Yeah? Do you like that? Of course you do. You’d like anything I do because you’re my little slut.” His smirk only grew as the degrading words left his mouth. “Now, be good and tell me who you belong to.” He used his available hand to harshly slap Mytho’s ass while he waited for a reply which only led to him bucking spastically into his hand. “Y-You...” He stuttered out with a very meek voice. “Good! I’m glad that empty head of yours knows at least one thing.” His strokes only grew in intensity as Mytho came closer to releasing. He idly groped at his butt, another sensitive spot on him that he enjoyed the reaction it caused. 

“I’m really close...Please let me cum.” He whimpered, already aware of what Fakir would want to hear from him. “Good, good. You’re behaving so nicely for me! I suppose this one time I can reward you, go ahead. Release into my hand.” He amped up his stroking, causing an array of mewls and moans to be released from the other’s mouth until he felt the sticky sensation encapsulate his hand. He finished while panting and Fakir removed his hands from him, leaving him feeling satisfied but oddly empty as well. Fakir’s symphony came to an end as he felt the release to one last note and he immediately removed himself as his choreography had come to an end. 

“Disgusting...” Fakir muttered as he searched the room for a tissue or cloth to rid his hand of the unpleasant stickiness. “You better appreciate all that I do for you, especially when you leave me messy.” He mumbled as he proceeded to dramatically pull a tissue out from a box at the bedside table and clean himself off. “I do...” Mytho replied, tired and breathless. He felt utterly alone despite the figure standing a few feet away from him and after feeling such intimacy with him. He changed his clothing but only to be in familiar attire, a similar pair of white briefs and a white button up that he didn’t even bother to button up. He went over to wear Fakir was standing and wrapped his arms around his back, a weird gesture coming from the usual distant Mytho and it caught Fakir off guard. He wanted to cure his unending loneliness and he assumed physical intimacy was the only remedy, though it never fully cured his issue. 

Mytho released himself and Fakir simply stared at him with confusion but didn’t care enough to ask any questions. He didn’t speak anymore before leaving besides “Always remember that you are mine and belong to me and me alone” which only got a nod from Mytho as a response, before returning to his own room to relieve his own erection. 

Mytho laid down on his bed and simply stared at the ceiling, mentally reliving the events that just unfolded. He could get used to this, he thought, anything that would curse his loneliness if not only for a second.

**Author's Note:**

> written for a special someone ... <3
> 
> I ❤️ COMMENTZ!!!


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